


Where Angels Play.

by ameliapond



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Weeping Angels - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameliapond/pseuds/ameliapond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a job in Athens, Ohio, Sam and Dean bump in to Amy Pond and the Doctor and the four of them work together to defeat the most dangerous creature in the universe,</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sound of Dean's phone ringing woke both of the brothers from their restless sleep. Sam rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up to a sitting position while Dean scrambled to find his phone. He looked at the caller ID and quickly flipped it open after reading the name.  
“Cassie?” He asked, his voice cracking when he spoke. He was quiet for a few moments as he listened to Cassie speak before assuring her that they would be on their way over soon and hanging up. “We have to get to Ohio,” Dean said before reaching under the bed and pulling out his duffle bag. He threw it on the bed and stood up to start gathering his things.  
“What's she doing in Ohio?” Sam asked. The last time he had heard anything about Cassie, she was still living in Missouri.  
“She went back to visit a college friend in Athens, friend went missing a few days ago, and now she's back,” he replied as he stuffed a shirt in to his bag.  
“That doesn't make any sense. If she came back then why call us?” Sam inquired.  
“Because she came back forty years older,” Dean told him.  
Sam laughed and shook his head. “That's impossible,” he told Dean before flopping back down on the bed and closing his eyes.  
“Apparently it's not,” Dean fired back. “Now get your ass up. We're leaving in ten minutes and if you and your shit aren't in the car, I will leave without you.”  
“No breakfast?” Sam pouted.  
“No breakfast,” Dean said sternly before reaching under Sam's bed and pulling out his bag and throwing it at him.  
With that, Sam forced himself out of bed to brush his teeth and find a pair of jeans to pull on. Still half asleep, he gathered everything else then dumped it in the bag and hauled it out to the car. They were only a few hours away in a small town in Kentucky where they had spent the night hunting down an angry spirit that didn't want to be found. By the time they had taken care of it and gotten back to the hotel, the sun had just began to sneak above the horizon. The brothers had only gotten a handful of sleep over the last few days and had planned to lay low for the day and get some rest but as usual, nothing ever goes to plan. But luckily for Sam, he knew Dean wouldn't be very talkative as they drove so he used the few hours they had on the road to catch a bit more sleep.  
When Dean shook Sam awake in the parking lot of the motel, the almost three hour journey felt like it had passed in no time at all. Sam was still exhausted as he hauled his bag in to their room while Dean called Cassie. He followed Sam in shortly after and the two made a quick plan of action. Dean would go talk to Cassie and her friend while Sam, as usual, would try and figure out what kind of supernatural creature could add decades on to someone's age and how they could stop it. A couple hours after his brother left, Sam had searched through two books and an array of websites on the local history of the town without any luck. He could feel his attention slipping from research to noticing how heavy his eyelids felt and how loud his stomach was growling. So after a quick phone call to Dean, he grabbed one of the books he hadn't read through headed out on foot in search for a cheap diner somewhere.  
Fortunately, Athens was a fairly small college town and everything centered around the campus. Their motel was only a few blocks away from the main road that was littered with shops, hole in the wall eateries, and college students rushing from building to building. From what he had read, the town had been around for a couple hundred years and most of the buildings around campus were as old as the town itself. With all the history Athens had, it was said to be one of the most haunted places in Ohio. Most of the entities harmless and no one bothered with them but every once in a while, something would trigger a violent one and that's when hunters would step in.  
Sam walked through groups of bustling students in search of some place to get food that wasn't a cafe or vegetarian. Eventually he stumbled upon a small diner sandwiched between two old brick buildings. The exterior was covered in shining panels of stainless steel and the interior was decked out in the classic 1950s décor. The place looked like a tourist trap but not wanting to walk any further or go back to one of the cafes he had passed on the way there, he decided to head inside. As he slid in to a booth, a red headed woman sitting at the bar watched him intently while sipping down a milkshake. Sam didn't recognize her but not wanting to be rude, he gave her a small smile before pulling out his book and starting on it. He was halfway through the first sentence when the woman at the bar slid in the booth across from him and slammed the book shut.  
“Oi, are you just not going to talk to me?” She asked him with her eyebrow cocked. Her Scottish accent took Sam by surprise.  
“I'm sorry,” he sputtered out, “but do I know you?”  
The woman took her hand off the front cover of his book and leaned back. She gave Sam a good, hard look and rolled her eyes. “I thought you looked a bit young,” she said to herself.  
“You must have gotten me confused with someone else,” Sam said, thinking it could be the only possible explanation of why she had stared him down when he had walked in like she was waiting for him to sit down next to her. At first he thought she was just checking him out, hoping he would chat her up. As much as Sam would have liked to, he was too tired and too busy to even try with her. But now that she was sitting in front of him and he could really look at her, he was glad she had mistaken him for that someone else. Her porcelain skin made her fiery ginger hair and bright hazel eyes stand out and from where he sat, he could now see the tiny freckles sprinkled across her cheeks. She was long and lean, and the mini skirt she was wearing showed off her mile-long legs. And then there was that Scottish accent. Sam was glad Dean wasn't here to try and get her for himself.  
Sam started to introduce himself but the woman cut him off. “I know you who are, Sam Winchester,” she told him and took a sip of her milkshake. “I know you quite well, actually.”  
“I've never met you in my life,” Sam told her in a low voice, his confusion rushing back. “How do you know my name?”  
“I know your name the same way that I know you have a brother and that his name is Dean. I also know that you and Dean travel around hunting spirits and werewolves and demons,” she shrugged. “I also know that thinks he Dean could 'bounce a nickle' off my ass and that you like how my nose crinkles when I laugh.”  
“Yeah? And how is that?” he asked.  
“Because you told me,” she replied as if it was obvious and crossed her arms.  
Sam shook his head. He would have remembered meeting her. He met a lot of unique people, sure, but it wasn't every day he met a feisty Scottish girl in a short skirt and combat boots. “How could I have told you any of that? I've never met you.” he refuted.  
“You haven't met me yet,” she corrected.  
“Yet?” Sam asked. “Are you some kind of psychic?”  
The woman looked away from him and laughed as if he had made a joke. She was right, he did like the way she scrunched her nose when she laughed. “No, Sam. I'm a time traveller,” she told him and she leaned forward with her elbows on the table and chin resting on her hands. Sam's jaw dropped and he couldn't seem to find words to express how crazy he thought she was. She stretched across the table and put her hand under his chin and pushed his mouth closed.  
“That's impossible,” he told her when the initial shock had worn off.  
“You know it's not. Castiel has sent Dean back in time,” she reminded him.  
“So you're an angel then?” Sam assumed. As beautiful as she was, it would make sense. And they were the only creatures he knew of that could achieve time travel.  
“Of course not. I'm human just like you,” she said. Sam prepared another round of questions to fire at her but before she could, a waitress came to their table and asked if they wanted any food. Sam tried to shoo her away and insist that he wasn't hungry but he was interrupted by Amy again. “Don't listen to him,” she said to the waitress.“He wants a double cheeseburger, no onion, fries, and coffee. Nothing for me, though. Thanks.”  
The waitress quickly scribbled down the order then headed back behind the bar. Sam looked at the Scottish woman in disbelief and she let out a chuckle. “How did you know what I order at diners?” he asked her.  
“Because that's what you ordered when you took me here before,” she told him, then scrunched her face and shook her head. “Well, before for me. Later for you. I keep forgetting we're out of order.”  
“You know, the more you talk, the less I understand about any of this,” he pointed out.  
“I should probably explain then,” she offered.  
Sam nodded in agreement and said, “an explanation would be good.”  
So while they waited for Sam's food to arrive, the woman explained everything. She told him that her name was Amy Pond and that when she was seven, she met a man called the Doctor and he had a space ship that also traveled in time called the TARDIS.  
“TARDIS?” Sam asked thinking that it was a strange name for a space ship that doubled as a time machine.  
“It stands for time and relative dimension in space. And don't make fun of her in front of the Doctor. He's basically in love with her,” she told him and rolled her eyes. Sam wanted to ask why Amy had referred to the TARDIS as 'her' but he knew the answer would just lead to even stranger questions and that wasn't a path he was sure he wanted to go down. So instead he asked, “you've been traveling with the Doctor since you were seven?”  
“No. He left then he came back for me twelve years later, saved the world, left again, then came back two years after that and I've been with him ever since,” she answered with a grin. “And together we hop around space and time saving people and having adventures.”  
“You could be anywhere in time and space and you're in Ohio,” Sam pointed out.  
“We're in Ohio for the same reason you are,” she told him. Looking at her watch, she quickly corrected herself. “Well, we will be soon. Sorry, I'm not used to keeping track of myself like this.”  
“Let me get this straight. We're going to meet again in the future while fighting off whatever it is that brought my brother and I here?” Sam asked. Amy nodded as she sipped down the rest of her shake. “So you can tell us what we're up against and how to beat it?” He hoped that Amy could save him a lot of time and effort and hopefully make this job a lot less risky. But Amy just sighed and looked away from him.  
“All I can tell you is that the creature you will be fighting against is called a weeping angel and it is the most dangerous creature in the universe,” Amy said solemnly.  
“Well, that's reassuring,” Sam told her sarcastically. “Why can't you tell me anything else?”  
“Spoilers,” Amy said apologetically. Sam sighed and put his head in his hands. Once again, the perfect solution to one of his problems was within reach but he couldn't have it. That didn't surprise him, but it didn't take away from how frustrating the situation was either. Amy scooted out of her side of the booth and slid in next to Sam. She ran her fingertips over the back of his neck and exhaled sharply. “I know you're frustrated and I don't blame you. But I know you can do this. I was there afterall,” she told him.  
“I could still use your help,” he said.  
“You don't need it right now. Just get your research done. Later on though, I'm going to save your ass and never let you forget it,” she said softly. “For now, you're on your own. I have to get out of here before I end up crossing my own time stream.”  
Sam lifted his head and watched as she stood and picked up her coat from the other side of the booth. As she turned to leave, Sam grabbed her arm and spun her back around so that she faced him. “Are you absolutely sure there is nothing else you can tell me?” he asked.  
“Actually, yes,” she said. Surprised, he looked up at her and waited for her to continue. “My favorite cat is Biggles and remember not to blink.”  
“Seems helpful,” Sam noted having not understood how what she just told him could be of any use but seeing as this was part of her past, he decided not to argue with her.  
“It will be,” Amy laughed. Then, without warning, she bent down and pressed her lips to his. There was no hesitation or second guessing on her end of the kiss, as if this wasn't the first time they had done this. And maybe for Amy it wasn't. Maybe this is what she meant when she said she knew him quite well. Suddenly Sam didn't mind that he had no clue what he was getting in to or how to get out of it if fighting the most dangerous creatures in the universe resulted in winning the heart of Amy Pond. He released his grip on her arm and held her face in his hands as he kissed her back. He felt her smile against his lips before she kissed him hard one last time before pulling his hands away and stepping back from him.  
“I've only fifty seconds before I rip a hole in the space-time continuum,” she said, grinning and out of breath. She grabbed her from her side of the booth then turned and started walking toward the door. “See you soon, Sammy,” she called over her shoulder before exiting the diner. Sam watched her through the window as she crossed the street and snuck in to a narrow alley between shops. Dean is never going to believe this, he thought to himself.  
Shortly after his talk with Amy Pond, the waitress brought Sam his food and the bill. He quickly devoured his burger and fries and threw a twenty dollar bill on the table and rushed back to the motel. He tried calling Dean on the way, but his call went to voicemail, so he hung up and tried again. On the second to last ring, Dean answered the call with an annoyed “hello?”  
“You and Cassie need to meet me at the motel as soon as possible,” Sam said excitedly.  
“Why? What's wrong?” Dean asked in his worried big brother tone.  
“Nothing, I-” Sam started.  
“You interrupted me from consoling Cassie for nothing?” Dean said, cutting him off.  
“No, I called to tell you that I met someone who knew what our monster was,” Sam told him. Dean let out an aggravated sigh and told him that he and Cassie would be there in half an hour then hung up. Sam rolled his eyes and tucked his phone back in to his pocket and made his way back to the motel.  
A short walk later, Sam was back in the motel room, sitting on his bed with his laptop looking for any local legends about weeping angels. As he read through different possibilities of what the angel could be, he had a hard time keeping his mind from wandering back to Amy. The idea of her being a time traveller was still hard to wrap his mind around, along with the fact that she went from planet to planet to gank alien bad guys. He wasn't sure that Dean would believe that because he wasn't sure he could believe it himself. But what choice did they have? Amy was the best, and only, lead they had along with her friend the Doctor. Sam was just hoping that they knew enough about these weeping angels to keep them all from ending up dead.  
After digging around a website dedicated to different Ohio haunts, Sam had finally found something that had good information on the weeping angel and where to find it. A few minutes after that, Dean came bursting through the door towing Cassie closely behind. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair before walking to where Sam sat and pulling his computer off his lap.  
“Is this what you cock blocked me for? A stone statue?” Dean asked as looked at the screen. Cassie glared at him before punching him in the shoulder. “Sorry, Cassie,” he said and gave her a quick peck.  
“You better be,” she scolded before plopping down in a nearby chair.  
“Anyway, according to that website and a new friend of mine, it's more than just a stone statue,” Sam told him.  
“Oh, right. Your mysterious informant,” Dean nodded as he read. “Are you going to tell me who it is?”  
Sam tried to think of how to describe Amy without making her sound as unbelievable as she was and if he should leave out the part where she kissed him. “It's complicated,” he said finally.  
Looking up from the laptop screen, Dean raised his eyebrows at his younger brother. “Well, you better get to explaining, then,” he instructed before closing the laptop and tossing it back to Sam.  
“Well,” he smiled, “her name is Amy Pond.”


	2. Chapter 2

While Sam explained everything about his encounter with the mysterious Amy Pond, Dean stayed surprisingly quiet as he sat next to Cassie. During some parts of his story she would look over at Dean with wide eyes, expecting him to mirror her disbelief but he never did. He just stayed leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head as he watched Sam intently. When he finished, an awkward silence fell on the room.  
“Is that it?” Dean asked after a few moments.  
“Yeah,” Sam said hesitantly. There was no way that Dean could be so cool about what he had just heard. “Why?”  
“Because I'm trying to make sure I register you at the right level of crazy,” Dean replied. “I mean, did you hear yourself? A hot, Scottish, time-traveling, hunter? Are you drunk?”  
Sam sighed and instantly regretted not being satisfied with Dean's initial reaction. He knew Dean would be a little hesitant to believe him but he didn't expect him to flat out think he was crazy. “I know how it sounds, but I promise you I'm not making her up.” Sam replied. “No one could make that up.”  
“For argument's sake, let's say she's real,” Cassie chimed in.  
“Fine,” the brothers said in unison, glaring at each other.  
“Great,” Cassie muttered under her breath, internally wishing the two of them could work a job without arguing just this once.  
“Cassie, what do you know about this weeping angel thing?” Dean asked.  
“I used to hear about it when I was in college. The angel statue at West State Street Cemetery is supposed to cry and move when you're not looking. Nobody actually believed it, though,” she shrugged.  
“Yeah, well, no one believed that the old asylum was really haunted until a vengeful spirit started picking off art students,” Dean reminded her.  
“What asylum?” Sam asked.  
“The Ridges. After it closed down, the university started renovating it in to classrooms and that pissed off one of the many spirits that haunts that joint,” Dean explained. “That was what brought me to Athens in the first place.”  
“We met when we was posing as a student in one of my art classes held in that building,” Cassie added.  
“Are people from that asylum buried at the same cemetery where our homicidal angel resides?” Sam inquired, thinking maybe there could be a connection.  
Dean shook his head. “They're buried in unmarked graves at a cemetery on the grounds of the asylum,” he told Sam. “Besides, ghosts don't have the power to send people back in time.”  
“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, awe-struck.  
“Cassie's friend wasn't aged forty years,” Dean explained. “She got sent back forty years in the past.”  
“Wait a minute,” Sam said in complete disbelief, “You called me crazy when I told you about Amy but someone tells you a stone statue sent them in to the past and it doesn't even phase you?”  
“It wasn't the time traveling that made think you were crazy, Sammy. It was the fact that you're claiming that a hot Scottish woman in a mini skirt and combat boots came back in time to tell you about psycho statues then stick her tongue down your throat,” Dean countered.  
“Alright boys, let's just get to work on figuring out how to get rid of this statue,” Cassie said before the argument got too heated. 

\-----

Dean and Cassie sat on one side of the small table by the window as they shared her computer to skim through local records and newspaper archives. While the two of them looked for incidents similar to what happened to Cassie's friend, Sam sat on his bed with his laptop and tried to dig up more information on the weeping angels. According to the lore on the angel at the cemetery, it was dedicated to the unknown soldiers buried there, but there was no record of where it came from or how it ended up in the cemetery. As Sam went from website to website reading up on the statue, he noticed that none of them actually had pictures of the angel. He and Dean weren't strangers to going after monsters without knowing what it was exactly they were looking for, but at least they knew how to gank them. Sam assumed that it wouldn't be too hard to pick out a crying angel out of a crowd of headstones but not wanting to risk going in to the hunt completely clueless, he spent a solid hour looking for pictures of the statue.  
He found his way back to the website where he had first read about the angels and managed to find what he assumed to be the only two pictures of the statue in existence in one of the galleries on the site. The statue stood just inside of the front gate of the cemetery between two trees. At the base of the statue was a two foot high fence that seemed quite worn down and each side of the square the it made leaned in a different direction. The angel itself stood perched high on three tiers of stone and towered above the gravestones beneath it. The angel's shoulders slumped forward and its gaze was downcast at the book she holds in her hands. Her stone wings stretched down most of the length of her body, stopping only a short distance above her bare feet. The entire statue was weathered and details were starting to fade away, but there was something beautiful about it. Sam couldn't help but think it didn't particularly look like something monstrous and evil, but his hunter instincts knew better.  
Sam heard someone's phone beep and assumed it was Dean or Cassie's. He hadn't tried to get ahold of anyone for help on this case and the two people that would need to contact him were sitting in the room with him. And it wasn't often someone called his phone just to have a nice chat so he assumed the beep didn't come from his phone and continued to study the photo of the angel statue.  
“That wasn't one of ours,” Dean said after he and Cassie checked their phones.  
“You're sure?” Sam asked.  
“Positive,” Dean replied. “Why?”  
“I'm not really expecting anyone,” Sam told him as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Sure enough, there was an unread text from an unfamiliar waiting to be checked in his inbox. He punched in his passcode and opened the message, completely surprised by what he read.  
“What's with the face?” Dean asked when he saw his brother's expression change from a worn out blank to one of bewilderment.  
“Did you send this?” Sam accused.  
“No! I've been reading newspaper articles for the last three hours with Cassie,” Dean reminded him. “Who does it say it's from?”  
“Amy,” Sam said and tossed Dean his phone. Across the screen of the phone read: How's the research coming along? -Amy.  
“Did you give her your number or something?” Dean asked.  
“Not when I met her at the diner, no,” Sam told him. “Maybe I give it to her in the future?”  
“I bet you do,” Dean replied, giving his brother a wink.  
Sam rolled his eyes and tucked his phone back in his pocket before returning his attention back to his computer screen. Looking at the picture of the angel, he noticed that the statue was different. When he had looked at the picture before, the angel had been holding a book in both hands and now one arm was extended as if it was reaching out to him. He tried refreshing the page, thinking that it was a clever trick on the behalf of whoever ran the website to get a rise out of someone reading the article about the angel, but the page was frozen. Nothing he did could get the page to close and it took him cutting off all power to even get the laptop to shut down. As annoyed as he was that the website's joke had frozen his computer, Sam was glad to have an excuse to look up from his laptop for the first time in almost four hours. He didn't realize just how exhausted he was until he had to sit read through pages and pages of poorly written history on a stone statue.  
Dean and Cassie continued to quietly flip through newspaper articles and police records for a couple more hours to give Sam a chance to get some rest. They didn't find much, just a few disappearances where the victim was last seen at West State Street Cemetery. As far as they could tell, the victims hadn't been sent back in time then returned home decades older after they disappeared. Then again, it wasn't exactly a scenario most newspapers or police officers would believe. It took a DNA test and dental record comparisions before the cops would believe that Cassie's friend was actually who she said she was and not some random old woman that was out of her mind and off her meds. As the sun crept beneath the horizon, the two gave up their search and decided to go out for some food before taking Cassie home.  
“Alright, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean said as he tried to shake Sam awake, “I'm not going to kiss you to get you to wake up.”  
“What do you want?” Sam asked groggily, his voice still heavy with sleep and his eyes still shut.  
“Cassie and I are gonna go get some food. You coming?” Dean asked.  
“I'm fine. Just bring me something back for later,” Sam told him.  
“See you in a couple hours then,” Dean told him as he slid on his jacket.  
Sam waited until he heard the door shut and the sound of the Impala starting and pulling away before he opened his eyes and pushed himself upright. His brief nap left him more worn out than he had been before he had nodded off. He stretched his legs and arms and rubbed the sleep from the corner of his eyes in an attempt to make himself feel more awake. The weight of exhaustion he felt on his eyelids had him hoping that they would get to take some time off after this hunt to rest up, even if it was only a day or two.  
Just as the idea of laying back down crossed his mind, someone knocked lightly on the door to their room. Sam pulled his phone out and checked the time and the numbers on screen told him it was just past ten pm. He couldn't imagine why anyone would be knocking on his door so late, but he reluctantly pushed himself up from the bed and went to answer it anyway. As he looked through the peephole, he caught a glimpse of long red hair and shook his head. Who else could it be?, he thought to himself. When he opened the door, the Amy pushed past him and plopped down on the foot of his bed and pulled his computer on to his lap without saying a word.  
“What are you doing?” He asked.  
“Checking something,” she replied without looking up. She stared at the screen intently for a moment before closing the laptop and shoving it under the bed. “Don't use that until you get rid of the angel,” she said sternly.  
“Should I even bother asking why?” he inquired, raising his eyebrows at her.  
“Anything that takes the image of an angel is an angel,” Amy told him. “That's one of the reasons why it took you so long to find any pictures of the angel in the cemetery.”  
“That doesn't make any sense,” Sam said.  
Amy let out an amused laugh and shook her head. “You're preaching to the choir,” she said knowingly. “I travel in time in a bigger-on-the-side spaceship with a alien who wears a bow-tie and you drive around the country in an '67 Impala fighting monsters with your brother. Sense is relative.”  
“You have a point,” he shrugged.  
“I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here,” she said before he could ask.  
Crossing his arms, Sam replied, “Sort of. And how you knew where I would be.”  
“I'm from your future. I know because you tell me,” she reminded him. “And I'm here to make sure the angel from your computer screen didn't kill you. I was a little worried when you didn't answer my text. And again, before you ask, yes, I gave you my number.”  
Sam felt a small sense of triumph at the thought of getting Amy's number sometime in the near future. He may have no idea what he was getting in to or what the hell he was going to do about it, but it must be something good. He walked over to where she sat and lowered himself on to the edge of the bed next to her, receiving a small smile from Amy when his knee brushed up against hers.  
“There's still something you having told me,” Sam pointed out.  
“There's a lot I haven't told you,” she corrected.  
“Well, why don't you start with why you keep coming to find me?” he suggested.  
“I just can't stay away from you I guess,” she said facetiously. Sam rolled his eyes and waited for her to give him an honest answer. Sensing he was unhappy with her first answer, Amy sighed and added, “And because I want to help as much as I can without having to live through the universe restarting again.”  
Sam wanted to ask her how it was possible for the universe to restart or how someone could even go about restarting it, but instead he asked, “What do you mean you're from my future?”  
“My past self and the Doctor's past self are going to help your future self and your brother's future self take care of a weeping angel,” she answered as if it was obvious.  
“Yeah, but the way you talk about it, it's more than just that, isn't it?” he said, trying to get her to explain.  
“Don't worry, I'm not your girlfriend,” she smirked.  
“So what are you then?” He asked, unsure if he was relieved or disappointed by what she just said.  
Amy looked at him apologetically, knowing that it would irritate him when she didn't give him a straight answer. “Spoilers,” she said, hating not being able to tell him anything but that was one of the downsides of time travel. One detail too many and time could start to unravel.  
Next to her, Sam let out an aggravated huff and ran his hands through his hair. His mind was racing, trying to process everything about the angels, about Amy, and what to do with them. Thoughts were racing through his head, bouncing off his skull so hard he worried it would explode. Pushing himself off the bed, he walked over to the mini fridge that was tucked away in a cabinet under the TV.  
“Do you want a drink?” he asked as he opened the door and pulled out to bottles of beer.  
“I need one after the day I've had,” Amy replied. Sam twisted the caps off the both bottles as he walked back over to his side of the bed and handed one of the bottles to her. Feeling to restless to sit, he stayed standing beside her and took a long swig of his beer hoping it would calm his nerves and his mind. “You really have no idea how hard it is to interact with your own past without it ending in some kind of catastrophe,” she told him before taking a sip of hers.  
“Interacting with your future has to be a close second,” Sam said.  
“If I didn't know how frustrating it was for myself, I would have taken that personally,” Amy warned.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, looking down at his feet.  
“Don't be. In twenty-four hours, you'll the the future boy and I'll be cross because I have to deal with you being all future-y,” she shrugged.  
“Looking forward to it,” he said with a wink.  
“You'll regret saying that tomorrow,” Amy chuckled.  
Sam couldn't help but laugh along with her; she was infectious. He wasn't sure if it was the way she held herself with unwavering confidence or how she could throw back a feisty response with no effort, but she dominated his attention when she came around. However, if he was honest, it could be how her everything about her seemed to go on forever; her legs, her hair, her smile. Or how she stomped around in her combat boots. She was undoubtably frustrating and headstrong, but she could charm anyone in to forgetting those facts.  
“Then again,” he said with a smile tugging at his lips, “maybe I won't.”


End file.
